


Chasers and Cuddles

by millijayne13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Quidditch, Quidditch Player Draco Malfoy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:09:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27301708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millijayne13/pseuds/millijayne13
Summary: Request: fluff 7 with Draco who's tired and sore from quidditch with a Slytherin reader - anon
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 89





	Chasers and Cuddles

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr @iliveiloveiwrite
> 
> Warnings: mentions of food and drink, but this is all fluff.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed!

There was no sport more beloved at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry than that of Quidditch. Football, Rugby, Lacrosse – none could hold a candle to Quidditch. It was revered amongst students and staff alike. Many of the professors having played the sport themselves when they were students at the school.

The buzz of the approaching Quidditch season spread like a wildfire through the student body. All houses chattering animatedly about team line ups and match outcomes. You grin and roll your eyes as you spy the Weasley twins already making a small fortune in bets.

The first match of the season was always the one to gather the largest crowd; students and teachers all eager to see the first two houses play against each other and kick off the Quidditch in style. It only made sense that the first match of the new season was to belong to Slytherin and Gryffindor.

Sitting in your plain clothes; you wrap Draco’s scarf around your neck, representing Slytherin proudly. He had given you his scarf months ago; when the bitter wind of winter was biting at your cheeks and nose. He had wrapped the scarf around your neck – the familiar scent of amber and roses strong - with no regard for his own before dropping a kiss to your nose; you felt much warmer after that.

Smiling at the memory, you reach for the pitcher of orange juice, pouring yourself a large glass. It’s sweet, tart taste bursts over your tongue as you reach for a slice of toast and strawberry jam.

A kiss is pressed to the top of your head; Draco’s usual greeting to you if you haven’t spent the night in his room. You turn your attention to the Slytherin Prince; raking your eyes over his Quidditch uniform and enjoying the sight.

  
He smirks as he piles his plate full of food, “You’ve never been subtle, love.”

You beam at him, “I’ve never aimed to be.”

Draco shakes his head at you fondly as he grabs the teapot, pouring a large cup of tea to settle the growing nerves.

“How are you feeling?” You ask around a bite of toast.

Draco releases a shuttering breath, “Would you believe me if I said I was fine?”

You shake your head with a smile, “Not for one minute.”

“Good because I’m nervous. I’ve been playing Quidditch for five years now and I still get nervous before the first match of the season.”

“Which is completely normal,” You reassure, “Nerves are a good thing, Dray, even if we all know you’re going to win.”

Draco bites his lip to repress the large smile. He had never been one for pep talks; they tended to make him more nervous than without, so you never offered one. Instead, before every match, you would state his win firmly as if it had already happened. It helped him feel better; it meant that the nerves were somewhat abated because of your blind faith in him.

He draws you in for a grateful kiss; one that tastes of strawberries and Yorkshire Tea.

Standing from the Slytherin table, you hold your hand out for Draco to take. “Come on,” You prompt, “Let’s get going.” 

The walk to the pitch is short; hands tangled and swinging between your bodies as you both walk in silence. Leaving Draco at the Slytherin changing room, you press a brief kiss to his lips before making your own way to the stand, joining your friends among the hubbub of other students.

You cheer loudest for your house and boyfriend; grinning broadly as Draco shoots you a wink as he flies past upon the introduction of both teams. Your friend, Adeline, nudges you and you roll your eyes and smile – utterly besotted with this teenager.

The match is brutal. The natural competitiveness of both houses making an appearance and threatening the balance between the houses. Slytherin and Gryffindor had been pitted against each other since the creation of the school, and the falling out of the founders. It was expected that this would spill over into the sport much beloved by the school.

You spy the golden snitch less than a second before Draco; he’s hurtling towards it at full speed, his arm already outstretched and hand ready to make the grab.

Your breath sits in your throat; unable to look away as Draco’s hand closes around the flying orb, and the whole Slytherin stand goes up in elated cheers and screams.

Sprinting from the stands, you barely give yourself a moment with your friends, wanting nothing more than to see the man that had won Slytherin the match.

“Draco!” You shout; rushing to him. You all but jump into his waiting arms; large smiles on both your faces, “You won! I’m so proud of you!”

“Thank you, my love,” Draco murmurs; placing you back on your feet and dipping his head to kiss you. His arm settles around your waist, and you smile at the action, remembering Draco’s words the other morning when he said he felt like he belonged at your side.

Draco winces as he puts pressure on his left ankle. You frown at the action, but he is quick to reassure you, “I’m just a little sore, love. Practice got the better of me and then we had the match. I didn’t have time to stretch it out properly.”

You roll your eyes, but you worry the inside of your cheek with your teeth, “Well we know what to do next time.”

Draco nods with a laugh, “Listen to the captain, and not push myself too hard.”

The walk back to the Slytherin common room is mostly silent. Draco winces every now and then, and with each wince your frown only gets deeper. You know it’s most likely nothing, but it still doesn’t hurt to get it rested as quick as possible.

He falls onto his bed; arms outstretched. He sighs against the feel of the soft fabric of his duvet pressing against his tired and aching body. You laugh at his actions; unable to keep the smile off your face as you lean against his bedpost, a hand on your hip.

“How does your ankle feel?”

Draco rolls his ankle; testing it out and feeling little pain. He shrugs, “Not bad at all, but you know what would make it better?”

“What?” You smirk.

**“Cuddle me!”** He all but shouts; his face an utter picture.

You crinkle your nose; unimpressed with his look and smell, “Not until you’ve taken a shower, Malfoy.”

“What are you trying to say?”

You pinch your nose; wafting your hand in front of your face dramatically, “I’m saying you stink.”

Draco flushes; a slow grin breaking across his face. You stand at the end of his bed, unaware of his plans. Your eyes widen as he shrugs off his Quidditch jersey; firmly distracted by his naked torso to be prepared for his next move.

Laughing, he flings his worn jersey in your face. You screech as it lands on you; blinding your vision. “Draco!” You shout; giggles falling from your lips, “I can’t believe you!”

Draco snorts, “I’ll take that as a compliment, love. I’m just too good to be believable.”

You glare at him playfully; balling up his jersey and dropping it onto the floor by his trunk to be thought about later. You point towards the attached bathroom, “Go shower.”

Draco pouts, but his grey eyes are bright with humour and mischief. The tiredness of the match begins to settle in his veins, and you can see it flash briefly across his face. There one minute and gone the next. You smile fondly at the blonde teenager that’s managed to steal your heart in such a short amount of time. Softly, you say, “Go shower and when you’re changed we can spend the rest of the day cuddling.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles, “Promise?”

Stepping closer to the Slytherin Prince, you hold up your pinkie finger, “I pinkie promise.”

Draco hooks his pinkie arounds yours, squeezing once before letting go. He ducks his head, kissing your cheek quickly before turning. “I won’t be long!” He promises; shouting the words through the bathroom door.

Laughing to yourself, you shake your head at the ball of anticipation curling in your gut. The relationship was still new to you both, barely a year old, and you were still learning so much about the other. His tea, for example, he preferred strongly brewed with no sugar and a dash of milk – a trait he picked up from his mother who he adores and misses when he’s at school.

Draco has you tripping up on your words, and second guessing every plan you had ever made for your future. Through the course of your relationship, these plans had shifted, expanded, making room for the blonde teenager as you came to realise that you would like him in your life for however long you can.

Toeing off your shoes, you rifle around in Draco’s trunk, looking for a blanket to wrap around your shoulders. The Slytherin common room being in the dungeons did very little to keep out the cold. After seven years of it, you’d have thought you would have gotten used to it, but the cold still managed to make you shiver, seeping its way to your very core.

At least his bed is somewhat warm as you sit down cross-legged on it. The dark green blanket doing all it can to warm you up without you getting under the covers; wanting to wait for Draco to finish showering before getting comfortable in bed.

Draco leaves the bathroom dressed in dark grey joggers and a plain white t-shirt; not the fanciest outfit he has ever worn, but it’s enough to make your mouth run dry and your heart begin to race. He flashes a knowing smile in your direction as he towel dries his hair; the blonde locks beginning to curl slightly as they air dry.

“You look comfy,” Draco comments; dropping his towel on the heater in the middle of the room. He turns back to you, pouting dramatically as a plan forms in his head, “You look too comfy without me.”

“Don’t you dare,” You warn; pointing at him as he edges closer to the bed.

His only answer is grin that lights up his whole face.

He flops down on top of you; nuzzling his face into your neck as he inhales the smell of your perfume. You laugh uncontrollably as Draco does nothing to move; arms wrapping around you as his body keeps you pinned to his mattress. His still wet hair brushes against your cheek; the smell of his shampoo overwhelming you.

“How do I smell now?” He asks; laughter lightening his voice and mischief bright in his grey, grey eyes.

You inhale dramatically; pressing your face into his neck. He shudders at the feel of your lips so close to his neck. You smile against his neck as you brush your lips gently against the sensitive, still warm skin.

“It’s definitely an improvement from earlier,” You comment lightly; pulling your face out of his neck, running your fingers across his jaw.

Draco scoffs light-heartedly; rolling his eyes with a smile. The smile slips then; giving way to a yawn that he tries to hide. He drops his head back to the crook of your neck, and your hand makes it way to rest in his hair, running your fingers through the growing waves. It wouldn’t be long before it was to start curling its way to the nape of his neck, but you knew he would get it cut long before that happens.

Draco practically purrs as your nails scratch his scalp, sending goosebumps all through his body. His muscles relax and he settles further into your embrace; repressing more yawns.

“It was one hell of a match, love.”

Draco hums; pushing his head further into your hands, “Thanks, darling.”

“Honestly, Dray. You played amazingly, and I am so proud of you.”

He blinks slowly; a smile full of pride breaking across his face. He ducks down, kissing you briefly, continuing to smile against your mouth. Draco breaks the kiss when another yawn overtakes him; his eyes drooping shut.

Later on, you would celebrate the win with your friends. The first match of the season bringing with it a party large enough for you to feel the after effects for days, and with Draco being the one who won the match, it would be party held in his honour.

For now though, you were content to let your eyes fall shut and your hand to still run through his hair. For now, you were happy to embrace the teenager that had stolen your heart a year ago and had no plans on ever giving it back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed!
> 
> Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite


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